


Postcards

by pleasereadmeok



Category: Imagine Me & You (2005)
Genre: F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 00:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8556199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasereadmeok/pseuds/pleasereadmeok
Summary: “So we’re not discussing it then? You’re not going to say anything? Grow up Hector!  I managed it – maybe you should try?!”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have been immersed in writing Downton Abbey fic for the last year and was in danger of drowning in it. I was desperate to do something contemporary, very British and more my own style. Heck and H are my favourite characters from 'Imagine Me and You' – I loved their quasi sibling relationship. A photoset of them appeared on my tumblr dashboard one day and this story happened. 
> 
> I don’t think this will make any sense if you haven’t seen the movie but here is a short synopsis of the plot:- 
> 
> Rachel marries best friend and long time sweetheart Hector (Heck) but falls in love with Luce, her wedding florist, at first sight on her wedding day! Heck is the sweetest man in the world who gets it eventually and lets Rachel go even though it kills him.
> 
> Henrietta (H) is Rachel’s inquisitive little sister. I think she’s about 9/10 when the film takes place – pre-adolescent anyway. She has an innocent love for Heck who is like her big brother, but she always says that she wants to marry him when she grows up. In the movie she has endless quirky questions - do penguins have knees; why don't we have pudding after breakfast - we have pudding after lunch and dinner - why not breakfast? That sort of thing! 
> 
> After the split Heck decides he wants to change his life, travel the world and write a book about world festivals and events.
> 
> Coop is Heck’s best friend who is rampant womaniser. 
> 
> I guess the only other thing you need to know is that Rachel’s dad never quite got over the fact that Heck is the _“Hound who is putting it up my daughter!”_
> 
> Maybe just watch the movie first…

_‘This is me on Bondi beach (I’m the pale and interesting white pom with all those bronzed adonis Aussies!)’_  
H laughed to herself, “I see you. Great body Heck, even though it is pure, luminous white!” 

 

H had kept them all - all of the postcards and letters that Heck sent her from his travels. She treasured the little cartoons he drew in the margins of himself at various festivals all over the world. Venice, Rio, Amritsar - all with the same stupid grin on his caricatured face. New Orleans, Goa, Mexico City – always with the grin. When he was due to stay in one place long enough H sent him news plus some Cadbury’s chocolate or a bag of his (and her) favourite sweets to remind him of home. And questions - she always sent him questions about some theory or other she wanted to test on him. “Why? Why? Why?” Because he was the only one who would try to answer why. Later when H was old enough to carry a phone she would get texts from him, usually in the middle of the night, to answer her latest query.  
_‘Hey Kid - No it’s not Llamas that jump off cliffs – it’s LEMMINGS you numpty’._

Heck’s first book had been a minor success, enough for him to get a second book deal and so off he went travelling again. H always insisted on waving him off at the airport. After all he was part of the family and always would be, even though Rachel was with Luce now. H would give Heck a pep talk about avoiding dying of malaria or black spot or something and he would make promises that he wouldn’t wade through swamps without rubber boots - because of leaches. He would plant a kiss on her cheek and then he was gone for half a year. Each time he came home H was little taller.

H had known Heck all of her life. He’d been going out with Rachel _forever_ and them getting married and divorced was just a minor blip in their family life when the fuss died down. Heck still came to H’s school plays, her art shows and sports days. He was experimented on as she learned to cook. He took her to the footy and bought her pie and gravy or a burger and shake after each match. He sometimes had Sunday lunch with the family, even when Rachel and Luce were there. Heck carried on being a much loved big brother to H, although she could never get the hang of the ‘sibling’ relationship and still declared to anyone who would listen that she was going to marry him when she grew up. 

Heck couldn’t help liking Luce and settled back into being friends with Rachel, which they both agreed, in time, was the best possible outcome. When the two women decided they wanted a baby it was the most natural thing in the world for them to ask Heck for help, and the most natural thing for him to agree.  
“Won’t it be weird?” The 16 year old H had asked him, “You wank into a cup and 9 months later I get a baby niece or nephew?”  
“Erm. Well it _is_ weird when you put it like that! You’ll be a cool Auntie though.”

Henry, A.K.A. ‘Lump’, arrived on schedule and H was indeed the coolest Auntie to her baby nephew. Heck had smiled as he watched her hold his son, cooing into his tiny ear.  
“Why do babies need burping after drinking milk?", she asked, "I don’t need burping every time I have a milkshake.”

When Heck was in the country, Rachel and Luce agreed that he should be with Henry as much as possible. It was an arrangement that suited everyone that Heck should look after his son while Rachel was busy helping Luce get flowers ready for weddings. Heck could just about manage Henry on his own, but H sometimes helped him out with the babysitting because she loved to spend time with them both. Between them they eventually worked out how to change a nappy without getting peed over. At the end of the ‘Lumpy’ evenings they flopped on the sofa, shattered, once the baby finally got to sleep. They would watch some crappy movie and pick at food from Heck's fridge. 

Time passed as it always does and Heck continued to travel and write. The postcards kept coming and were lovingly preserved by H. Now they were supplemented by texts and face-time most days. She was the one who updated Heck on Lump’s progress (and fascinating bodily functions) because Rachel and Luce were permanently too knackered with nappy changing to make contact as often as he would like. 

When Heck was home he would spend his time with his ‘family’ of Lump, H, Rachel and Luce. There was always more babysitting with H, footy, pie and gravy and Heck trying to burp H after post match milkshakes. But then, at some point, milkshakes turned into tequila shots and everything changed between H and Heck.

 

They had met in a bar in Soho. Heck had panicked at the very moment he was being served.  
“Oh wait – are you old enough to drink?”  
“Hector we are meeting up to have a drink to celebrate my 18th. There’s a bit of a clue in that sentence if you search for it!”  
He’d snorted with laughter and they’d got completely tipsy on Tequila, falling into a taxi and then falling asleep in a cuddle on the back seat. 

From then on H was added to Heck’s list of bar friends he met up with when he was at home. Although the topics of conversation covered with H were a little different to his regular drinking sessions with Coop. H used Heck to get a male perspective on her unsatisfactory encounters with men.  
“Why do boys grope? Girls don’t grope.”  
Heck considered - he’d certainly been groped a few times. H’s first time with a boy had been pretty crappy and her second was worse. She swore she would never have sex again. Once Heck had got his head round the horror that little H was actually having sex now, he tried to be sympathetic.  
“Don’t give up – the third one will be a charm.”  
“Yeah right. Do you know any charming 19 year olds’?”  
“Well I know you! But no, from what I can remember all 19 year old boys are like Coop.”  
“Exactly, I’m never having sex again.”  
Heck would tell H about his latest love life disaster to make her feel better. The borderline stalker; the one who cried all the time during sex (“What did you DO to her?”); the one who _laughed_ all the time during sex. Soon Heck realised that there wasn’t any more of his love life to discuss when they met. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but seeing as much as he wanted of H left no time for other women.

 

Art college beckoned for H and so Heck was roped in to pose for the pencil studies of hands and heads she needed for her portfolio. Dad was way too old - too many wrinkles to draw, and so using Heck made sense. He was a patient model – mostly because he fell asleep whenever she drew him. Drawing him lying down was the only option. H considered how vulnerable he looked as his head lolled back onto the pillow. It was then that she saw Heck for the first time, really saw him, not just as her pretend brother but as a man who summoned up altogether different feelings in H.  
“You’re quite good looking for an old guy.”  
“Thanks for that.” He replied in a sleepy huff.  
“Of course I really need to do some _life_ drawings for my portfolio. Get your kit off Hector.”  
“Fuck off H. The clothes stay on.”

 

H invited Heck to her graduate show at Central St. Martins. He had arrived straight off a plane, with five-day old stubble on his chin, his hair a mess and a threadbare cashmere sweater stretched over his lean muscles. H thought she was going to burst, _literally burst_ , with love when she caught sight of him. She had nearly knocked him off his feet when she rushed to welcome him with a smacker of a kiss on the lips. 

Left alone to look around H’s work, Heck stood for a full five minutes staring at one of her paintings before he choked,  
“Fucking hell!!”  
He realised he had been examining a painting of H’s naked body, her long hair cascading to frame her unfamiliar womanly curves.  
“When did _that_ happen?” He hissed to himself.  
He’d been awkward with her for the first time in her life when they went for a pizza afterwards. But after sharing a massive plate of garlic dough balls they were the same as ever - H asking questions and Heck patiently answering and telling her about his latest trip.

 

H crashed at Heck’s tiny flat one night after a particularly gruelling session of babysitting Lump. After depositing the baby in the crib in his bedroom, Heck carried H's limp body to his bed and laid down beside her. Henry had exhausted them with nappy changing, burping, nappy changing, feeding, nappy changing… Heck wondered why being a father was so damned hard and why such a small baby produced so much poo. 

H was preoccupied with other matters. She was examining the man laying beside her and focussing on Heck’s Adam’s Apple.  
“Why don’t women have Adam’s Apples? It was Eve who ate the apple first after all.”  
“I dunno, I’m not awake enough to answer that.”  
She snuggled up to him as she drifted off and he tried to get to sleep and resist the temptation. He was ashamed of his desire for her, entirely inappropriate because he had changed _her_ nappies as a baby. He didn’t understand how his feelings had changed so completely. Mostly he tried to ignore the inconvenience of his growing erection as her thigh wriggled against his body and hoped she wouldn’t notice. Luckily he fell asleep before he could hate himself too much, but H _had_ noticed and smiled to herself.

Heck woke to feel a warm body nuzzling up to his. H had flung off most of her clothes in the hot summer night and was now semi-naked in his bed. She coiled herself around him and kissed his neck.  
“Mmm.”  
Her fingers traced over the muscles of his chest. For a moment he forgot that loving her was an inappropriate choice and pulled her to him, kissing into her hair, his hands stroking the soft skin of her back. Her lips found his just for the briefest of moments before she murmured,  
“I love you”.

Heck’s eyes shot open in panic, suddenly awake to what he was doing. He untangled himself abruptly and practically jumped from the bed. He busied himself with his son, getting him ready for Rachel and Luce to collect, while H stomped off to the shower in a rage. Heck gulped when she returned to the bedroom, towel wrapped, like a present.  
“Um… I’ll leave you to it.”  
H was angry, really angry.  
“So we’re not discussing it then? You’re not going to say anything? Grow up Hector! I managed it – maybe you should try?!”

 

Heck was in deep trouble. H was Rachel’s sister, her _little_ sister and so fucking young. What next? Would he fall for her mother and get the whole family set??? Maybe there were female cousins or aunts who would bewitch him too? _Surely_ H meant she loved him like she always had, just a childhood crush, grown familiar and comfortable through the years? Heck was desperate and confused and confided in his unlikely best friend Coop. “Go for it!” was not the advice he wanted to hear.

H chose a better, more qualified, confidante.  
“Is it way too icky for words? It’s just that I bloody love him Rach’!”  
Rachel had watched their awkward denial of their new feelings and already concluded that it was inevitable.  
“It’s not icky. Sure he’s older but he’s Heck, he’s Peter Pan and you’re perfect for each other.”

 

Rachel and Luce decided to get married at last. H was to be chief bridesmaid and Heck the Best Man because he was, after all, the best man they knew.  
“Wow!”  
His admiration of H’s form in her strappy dress could not be contained at first sight but she ignored his attention. His misery was quickly buried in a haze of alcohol at the wedding reception. Rachel kicked his shin.  
“You prat! You love each other, just let it happen.”  
“Rach I’m 14 years older! That's ... that makes me … I don’t even want to think about what that makes me!”  
“It makes you Mr. Knightley – that’s what.”  
Heck pulled a face. “What?!”  
“You are H’s Mr. Knightley. He was 17 years older than Emma Woodhouse. Jane Austen.”  
“That’s just a bloody old book!”  
“I know but don’t knock Austen. You and H have something special. Don’t throw it away and give it a chance.”  
“Your father will bloody kill me if I do!”  
“Let me handle him. Now drink some coffee, sober up and ask her to dance before I kick your other shin.”

Heck looked down at the woman in his arms. The last time they had danced was at a wedding, his wedding, when she had rested her feet on his polished shoes and he spun her around the dance floor. This was a bit different. Very different.  
“Christ I’ve been spending too much time with Coop. I’m working out how I can get into the chief bridesmaid’s knickers!” Heck snorted and waited for the reaction. If she slapped his face at least that would be an end to it.  
“Well maybe not _here_ on the dance-floor! Let’s go outside.”

“Sorry,” was his opening line when they re-convened on the terrace, even though he wanted to say, _“I’ve fallen in love with you, without meaning to, even though I’m old enough to be your granddad”._ H’s smile made him realise that he had said it out loud after all.  
“Heck I’ve loved you all my life but _this_ – it’s different now. It’s a different love and it feels right.”  
“When did you get so wise?”  
“When you buggered off travelling and left me to miss you. Anyway you are not old enough to be my granddad. Oh wait a minute though - is that grey hair?”  
H spotted the silver under the flickering candlelight on the terrace.  
“Probably, I’m so old and decrepit now.”  
“You’re not old, you’re only 35, you’re mature. I still love you anyway, even though you are smelling a bit musty nowadays.”  
He spat out his drink when he laughed, “Oh I get it. You mean ‘mature’ like old cheese!”  
“But you don’t get it do you? And you’re supposed to be the mature one? I mean it. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, you wanker!”  
He held her hand and tried to be the mature, sensible, one.  
“I’m nearly old enough to be your father.”  
“Well thank god you’re not. I don’t want to do the things I want to do with you with my father!” 

Their first ‘proper’ kiss was a shock to them both. Heck was aiming for her cheek and she turned just at the wrong time. The right time, as it happened, to kiss him softly on the lips. His arms moved around her waist like they had always been there as the kiss became more ardent. No, this was not _‘proper’_ at all.

They tripped up the stairs to H’s room and awkwardly negotiated getting each other’s clothes off. Heck had to get over the fact that the last time he had been anywhere near her completely naked body it was with a tub of nappy rash cream.  
“Isn’t this just bit pervy?”  
“Heck! Shut up and just go with it.”  
The sex was awkward too – for the first few seconds before passion took over and their pretend sibling relationship was left firmly in the past.

Afterwards they laid in a cuddle grinning like idiots.  
“Why don’t men have a clitoris?” Heck was relieved to be quizzed with yet another typical H question. It signalled that now the ‘deed’ was done, it wasn’t going to get weird between them. Situation normal.  
“Because we would play with it all day and never get anything done! Oh my god did we really do that?”  
Heck was still astonished that he had managed it without flashbacks to the nappy changing thing.  
“Yes. At bloody last.”  
“And it wasn’t too pervy?”  
“Well yes, but in a good way.”  
“Good enough to do it again?”

 

Notting Hill was the next carnival on Heck’s list. H went with him and captured every joyous moment with her camera. She painted vast canvasses of the dancers and floats that proved to be perfect illustrations for his next book. It was decided that she should go with him on his next trip to collect images to be published. This time it was little Henry who waved them both off with Rachel and Luce.

 

Rachel and Luce kept them all – all of the postcards, H’s drawings (a better standard than Heck’s of course) and photos of the sights they saw. _‘Heck and me climbing a pyramid’; ‘Heck and me in Barcelona’; ‘Heck and me getting married in Las Vegas’._

H had been the little girl who had wanted to marry Heck when she was grown up - and she did.

**Author's Note:**

> I kept on thinking "Is this icky?" when I was writing this but then of course I remembered Emma and Mr. Knightley - had to shove that in! When I came to post it - phew - I found there were other fics with the same story line/outcome so I felt better about it. I hope I showed that Heck was struggling with the age difference and the change in their former relationship. I'm guessing that H wouldn't give a crap about Heck being older. You'll notice I avoided her parents reaction! 
> 
> Anyway if anyone finds this - I hope you like it.


End file.
